Then came the hardest and most irksome part of the task--getting the prisoners safely to jail. After many monotonous days and nights, in which it was necessary to keep a close guard on the prisoners and at the same time navigate the river, they came to a cow camp. There Roosevelt learned that at a ranch fifteen miles off he could hire a large prairie schooner and two tough broncos for the transportation of his prisoners to Dickinson, the nearest town. This was done. Sewall and Dow went back to the boats. Roosevelt put the prisoners in the wagon along with an old settler, who drove the horses while he walked behind, ankle-deep in mud, with his Winchester over his shoulder. After thirty-six hours of sleeplessness the wagon jolted into the main street of Dickinson, where Roosevelt delivered his prisoners into the hands of the sheriff, and received, under the laws of Dakota, his fees as a deputy sheriff, amounting to some fifty dollars. III Broncos and Bears Hunting lost broncos was one of the commonest and most irksome of Roosevelt’s ranch duties. On one occasion, when three horses under his charge had been running loose for a couple of months and had become as wild as deer through their stolen liberty, he had to follow at full speed for fifteen miles, until by exhausting them, he was able to get them under control and headed toward a corral. At other times he and his men were not so lucky. Two horses had been missing from the ranch for nearly eighteen months. They were seen by his men and pursued but the horses of the pursuers became exhausted and broken before they caught up with the runaways. On another occasion a horse that had been on the Roosevelt ranch nine months developed a case of homesickness, went off one night and traveled two hundred miles back to its former roaming grounds, swimming the Yellowstone to achieve its goal. When Roosevelt was attending one of the recent national political conventions, up came George Meyer, one of his former ranchmen, with this tale of Roosevelt’s roundup days on the Little Missouri: “When the Colonel gets into a mix-up like he is in at this convention the picture comes to me of the time when he and I started to get two calves across the river. I singled out the meekest looking, grabbed it up in my arms, held it while I managed to get on my horse, and started to cross the river. Half way across I turned to see how ‘the boss’ was getting along.